


Call it home

by StarrySkies282



Category: Marvel, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Avengers Family, Avengers as family, But I don’t really care because I’ve had this written for a while now, I know this has been done before, Other, So finally posting it, Team as Family, all of them together - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-29
Updated: 2019-01-29
Packaged: 2019-10-18 06:08:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 533
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17575325
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarrySkies282/pseuds/StarrySkies282
Summary: Okay, so this started off as a Captain America fic and then morphed into an Avengers-as-family thing that’s probably been done before but idc.It’s my first fic for the Marvel/Avengers fandom so hope you enjoy x





	Call it home

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so this started off as a Captain America fic and then morphed into an Avengers-as-family thing that’s probably been done before but idc.  
> It’s my first fic for the Marvel/Avengers fandom so hope you enjoy x

Everything was scarce back then. The combination of the Depression, the war and being an orphan meant that one way or another, “non essentials” were hard to come by.  
But he remembers a few times. These are deeply embedded in his memory.  
How he liked chocolate. How his mother knew his weakness for it and for his birthday had saved up to buy him a bar. He remembers the way she smiled at him— happy with the knowledge she had made her Steve happy.  
He remembers other times. Scrimping and saving with Bucky. For months. And then going to the new ice cream parlour round the block, both ordering the largest quantity of chocolate ice cream they could afford. And then being sick for days afterwards.

  
So when he wakes up in the 21st Century and sees everything in excess and so readily available, he can’t help feeling more than a little overwhelmed.  
But surprisingly, it’s Tony Stark who helps him. As though it’s no big deal. The day Cap finally agrees to move into the Avengers tower, Stark shows him to his rooms and casually offers him some chocolate, from a bar in his hands. Something Steve has never heard of before. Snickers.  
He accepts it gratefully. And just like that, he knows he’ll be okay.

  
Suddenly it’s not just Tony and Steve in the tower, but Bruce has joined them too. Temporarily, he claims. But Tony knows that if he dangles some hair-brained science project in front of him long enough, he just might stay more permanently.  
And one day, Tony finds out Natasha’s been living there— in his tower— without him knowing, and he’s kind of pissed. He complains at JARVIS: “How could you let this happen? You’re supposed to be on my side. You’re meant to tell me everything.”

  
“But sir,” protests JARVIS, “she disabled by sensors until now, and I did not wish to override—“  
“JARVIS, are you afraid of Natasha?”  
“Afraid sir? Never. I merely wished to give her some privacy.”

  
He’s not that angry really, he’s flattered actually, that Agent Romanoff would choose to move in there with him and the others.

 

Occasionally Thor will stop by, bringing news from Asgard. The first time he does this, Tony shows him to his floor, bedecked in Viking-like decor, complete with shields and tapestries and ancient runes, “to make you feel more at home,” insists Stark.  
Clint is found there sometimes too, having entered through a ceiling vent, undetected, scaring Steve half to death one morning.

  
And so, little by little, they form this sort of strange family of heroes. Of people who are more than a little broken, who were often considered as not truly having a place in this world.  
Gradually, more people start to appear, each shown to their own space. Wanda is next. It’s probably the first proper home she’s had since she was ten. Vision comes too. And Sam. And Rhodey. Peter visits on weekends.

Now there’s always someone there. Someone to talk to about those things they could never tell anyone else, someone who understands, someone to make the world feel a little smaller, a little more manageable. Somewhere to call home.


End file.
